Of Wolves and Monsters
by FalconLux
Summary: Most werewolves see the monsters in themselves and fear and loathe their feral nature on some level. But what if a human knew life only as pain, fear, and brutality before being Changed? This is the story of a young woman's second chance at life as a werewolf. Featuring Bran and some of my own new characters. COMPLETE but with a sequel in the works!
1. Chapter 1

**_**This is my first fanfic, tell me what you love, what you hate, whatever falls between, but please review!**_**

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

CHAPTER 1

The girl opened her eyes and stared up at the stars and the moon through the trees. She was so weak, and her whole body hurt, but these were not new sensations for her. She tasted blood in her mouth – that was not new either. Her greatest sense was freedom. She wasn't sure if she was going to die or not, though she suspected that she would. She wasn't upset by that. She hoped that death would be a relief. She'd heard people speak of an afterlife – she'd read about it in books – but she hoped they were wrong. She didn't want to live anymore. Life was painful and she was so tired.

She felt the knife in her pocket. It hadn't been made for killing – part of her last master's silver service – but it was sharp and she knew that it would do the job. She'd taken it from her master's kitchen, though at the time she hadn't known what she would do with it. She'd wanted to kill her master, but she'd rarely met a person that she hadn't wanted to kill. Still, she'd never expected that she'd really do it. Killing frightened her – at least, the thought of it coming by her hand frightened her. She wasn't sure that she'd ever fully understood the logic in that. She'd seen a lot of people die. Most of her masters had killed often in her presence. Somehow, she felt that if she killed, it would make her like them. She didn't like what she was, but she knew that she wasn't like them. They were monsters. She didn't want to be a monster.

Still, something had changed in her recently. There was something about her last master that had come so close to pushing her over the line she had never dreamed to cross. She still didn't understand what it had been, but it had made her take the knife.

Tonight had been different than other nights though. She hadn't just been raped. She hadn't merely been beaten. Maybe he'd decided that he was done with her and either assumed that he couldn't sell her or simply didn't need the money. Either way, she'd known almost from the start that she wouldn't survive when she'd felt his hands on her. They'd been… eager and malicious – more so than normal. She'd had the knife within easy reach then, but she hadn't chosen to use it. She welcomed death, and – with the promise of the end so near – she wouldn't let herself die as one of them.

He'd stopped sooner than she'd anticipated though. He'd been using a knife to make her bleed – her face, her arms, her breasts, almost her entire body – and he'd cut too deeply into her stomach. She'd thought that the end was near then, but his body had changed. His tension changed from arousal to… It was something that she had rarely seen, and nothing she'd ever seen in relation to her. She thought that he was disgusted, with himself maybe. He hadn't been a killer after all – at least not the sort to do the deed personally.

She was sure that he'd thought her wounds mortal, or it was unlikely that he would have left her here. She thought he was right. She was getting weaker. Most of her cuts weren't deep, and she wasn't sure if the single deep cut in her stomach had hit anything vital, but there were a lot of cuts. She was losing a lot of blood.

She smiled slightly – it hurt, but pain didn't bother her – she would die, she thought. Finally.

So she just watched the stars as they winked in and out through the gently waving screen of the trees above her head. The moon was a fat ball, just a sliver short of perfectly round, almost directly overhead. She'd always liked the night – late night, after even monsters had sated their lust and sought sleep. The time was peaceful. Most of her masters had put little stock in mornings, particularly where she was concerned, so she'd mostly been free to spend her nights awake. She didn't care to be awake when there were monsters about. But when they slept, she was free. Free to be herself. Free to think and to dream. Her dreams had not been anything extravagant, of course, for she was no fool to think a knight in shining armor would rescue her and give her a life of happiness as she'd read once in a child's story. No, her dreams were only just out of her grasp, though she'd never expected to actually close that distance.

Mostly, she'd dreamed of peace, if only for a little while. That, she had found. How wonderful it was to think that she would die during her favorite time of the night, all alone… peaceful. She'd never expected to be so lucky.

Her vision was becoming blurry, and she despaired at the loss of her perfect view but she didn't fight it. She knew that the end was near now. The pain in her body was almost completely gone. If she'd had the strength, she thought she'd have laughed with the joy of such a merciful death at the end of such a life as hers. It seemed a greater justice than she'd ever have dreamed.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she felt herself begin to drift.

But then a sound alerted her that she was not alone and a lifetime of wariness for the presence of others brought back senses that she had thought beyond her grasp. Her eyes opened and her vision was clearer than it had been. The sound was not loud, but it was close. She tilted her head toward it slightly, sliding the knife into a tight grip. She did not want to die a killer, but she would before she would allow herself to be taken again. She was too close to death. She'd already welcomed it and let herself believe that it was over. If her greatest wound was blood loss, she might yet be revived at a hospital. She could not allow that. She refused to have her peace stolen from her now.

At first, she saw nothing. The moon was full and bright, but the trees were thicker than they looked from her position, and little filtered to the ground. Also, she noticed finally, she'd been looking too high. She'd expected a person, a man. When the movement finally drew her eye, she saw instead, a huge black dog, or… No. It must be a wolf. It looked huge to her, but then she was lying on the ground, and she knew very little about wolves except that they were dangerous.

Dread filled her, but the realist in her wasn't really surprised. She'd known that a peaceful end was more than was meant for her. Her life had never included peace, luck, _or_ mercy. Why should the end of it be any different?

The huge animal came closer slowly, warily. Wolf or dog, she knew that hungry posture. It was looking at food, food that it wasn't sure if it would have to kill first.

She made a decision then that would have shocked her if she'd been more coherent. For the first time since she'd left her mother, she felt the instinct to fight and did not challenge it. She assumed that she would not get her peaceful end, as her little steak knife was surely nothing against this beast, but she'd decided that she would not die in the agony of being eaten alive. She would fight and force the beast to kill her before it got its dinner.

Somehow it seemed so much more appropriate that she would die this way. After years of being brutalized by bestial men, she would die at the hands of a true beast.

It approached… and she waited, holding the knife at her side. She tightened her grip and the wolf's head jerked toward her hand. It lunged at her with terrible speed, teeth bared.

With strength that she knew she shouldn't have possessed in her state, she responded to a survival instinct that she hadn't felt in years. Her whole body tensed and agony ripped through her tortured frame – agony that she ignored. The wolf struck before she brought her knife up – it was faster than she'd imagined even a wild predator could be – and she felt teeth sink into her throat. She knew that it was over now, but her survival instinct didn't.

Despite the teeth in her tender flesh that would surely prove fatal in moments, she continued to lift her knife and she forced it into the wolf's ear until her fist touched its fur. She collapsed – that last amazing reserve of energy and her newest wound pushing her beyond the ability to even hold the knife – and the wolf rolled off of her, landing at her side. The heat of its unmoving body radiated into her and she felt that powerful sense of satisfaction that she hadn't known since that fateful day so long ago.

She was too exhausted to feel regret for that satisfaction this time though. The moon filled her eyes for one indeterminable moment, and then blessed darkness came.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	2. Chapter 2

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

CHAPTER 2

The girl was roused from a peaceful, dreamless sleep the likes of which she had not known in her memory. It took her only a moment to identify what had woken her. It was a sound she'd not heard in a long time. The sound of birds. Not just one or two as she'd heard in the city, but dozens, and other sounds as well.

Her eyes cracked open and at first, the light blinded her. Squinting against the sun, she pushed herself up slowly, surprised that it didn't hurt. Mornings were usually painful because a night rarely passed without at least a mild beating. She struggled a moment to understand her blurry surroundings, and tried to stand up.

She froze when her hand fell on cool fur. She turned her head and blinked away the blur to find the body of a huge wolf lying next to her, a silver steak knife stuck in its ear. In a flash, she remembered everything.

Disappointment, was her first irrational reaction. She'd been so certain that when the darkness came, it had been the darkness of death. But she was alive…

Confusion was a more natural reaction, though that was probably too mild a word. Bewilderment would have been closer, and with a touch of panic as well. She'd been certain that she was dying because she _had_ been. She was sure that blood loss would have killed her by sunrise, though it was plenty sunny now. Even if her master's wounds had not been enough, that wolf's teeth had bitten deeply into her neck, she was sure of it. Pain and death were two things that she understood very well.

Her hand reached automatically to her throat, and brushed lightly over smooth, unmarked flesh. She ran them over again, more firmly. Nothing.

Her heart was beginning to race as she looked to examine the rest of her wounds. They were gone… Not as though they'd healed, but as though they'd never been. Had she dreamed it all? It was certainly more likely than the alternatives, but if it had been a dream, then how had she ended up in the woods? And that wolf certainly wasn't a dream…

Unless she was dreaming now. Perhaps this was her final dream before she would die in her sleep. That made the most sense yet, but she couldn't believe it. If it were a dream, there would be more pain, not less. She didn't have happy dreams. In her whole life, she could not remember a single dream that had been in any way happy.

She took a slow, deep breath, and struggled to make sense of the facts. Logic had always been a valued gift. It allowed her to remove emotion, and emotion was dangerous. She'd almost entirely banished that a long time ago. Occasionally it crept up on her, but those moments had grown increasingly infrequent over the years. With cold logic, the world was bearable.

Logic told her that she was still alive, since she didn't feel any different. She wasn't dreaming, because it felt nothing like any dream she could ever remember having. She seemed to be uninjured, though she wasn't entirely sure that she didn't possess bruising or stiffness as she'd learned to block those out so well that she no longer noticed them. She was definitely in the woods, without any sign of civilization within her sight.

She remembered vaguely how she'd gotten there. She remembered her master's trunk, and the feel of motion and sound of the engine. He'd taken her somewhere, but she didn't even know how far from his house she was. Time was something that she hadn't noticed much since she was a young girl. Except to await the time when night progressed enough to put most of the monsters to bed, time was irrelevant.

She _did_ however, remember _why_ she'd been taken here. Her master had thought that he'd killed her. He'd left her here to die. He'd thought that she'd die because she'd been cut up badly.

…So why did she not have a visible mark on her?

The wolf would have been easy to discount as a dream, except for the fact that the damn thing was still there, exactly as she remembered it with her master's knife still stuck in its head.

She spent several minutes trying to understand her circumstances before she realized that it didn't matter. She wasn't dead – which was a little disappointing – but she _was_ free. Her master thought that she was dead. She was free of him and he would not come looking for her. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Obviously she was delighted to know that no one would be waiting to rape her or torture her, but what was she going to do now? She didn't have any money. She… She didn't even know what else she needed except food and shelter. She didn't know how to live as a free girl. She'd been a possession since she was a child.

Bits of overheard conversation that she hadn't really listened to made her think that she would need more than she knew to survive, but she couldn't recall what those things might be. Beyond that, the very idea of going anywhere near the city did not appeal to her. She didn't like people. Even those who didn't hurt her had never been kind to her. And what if one of them decided to claim her? Could she fight them as she had the wolf, or would she become a slave again? Did it matter either way? Even if she did fight them, she had little hope that she could win. She understood masters as well as pain and death. Masters were dangerous, and they had many ways to kill and many that would help them do it.

No, she was sure that she was in the best place she could be. She knew next to nothing about nature or how to live in it, but she knew that there was peace here. She could _feel _it. Even if she died of hunger or thirst or at the hands of another wolf or simply from lack of shelter, she didn't care. Death in such a peaceful place – even a violent death – did not frighten her now.

She had felt the embrace of death the night before, even if it had not taken her, and she understood it now better than she ever had. Death was peace, and she would never fear it again. If another master took her, she might seek death intentionally, but for now, she had found enough peace in life to curb her desire for its end.

She got up off the ground and almost walked away before she remembered the knife. A knife would come in very handy if she met another wolf or if she felt the need to cut something.

She went back to the wolf and hefted the stiff, heavy body over to reach the protrusion of the silver hilt. She closed her fist around it and yanked it out, but it flew from her hand almost immediately as unexpected pain startled her into opening her grip. She stared at the knife in shock, and then at the light burn on her palm. She knew that the knife had not been hot. Aside from the incongruity of that possibility, the pain had not been that of heat. It had been a different kind of burn, like that of alcohol or salt in a cut or in her eyes. She could only assume that the silver had not reacted well to spending the night in the wolf's head. Maybe silver and wolf's blood were a bad combination.

At the moment, it didn't really matter. She suspected that the knife would be useful anyway, especially in an emergency. She needed something other than her bare skin to handle it though. She considered the dilemma briefly. She was naked. She had no clothing to tear or remove for the purpose. Nakedness did not bother her, as she'd spent the majority of her life naked so that her masters and other men could look at her. Modesty was not a concept she'd ever had the luxury of acquiring. As she thought about that, her eyes fell on the wolf again, and she noticed what it was lying on. It was a fluffy white bathrobe stained in blood that she now remembered her master wrapping her in to carry her. She pulled it out from under the wolf and used it to pick up the knife before rolling it up in a bundle, then she used the tie from the robe to secure it.

Satisfied that there was no more reason to stay, and plenty of reasons not to – such as her master coming back to make sure she'd died – she set off into the woods with no particular destination.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	3. Chapter 3

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

CHAPTER 3

The girl had walked a long time before she decided that she needed to find somewhere to sleep. Her belly grumbled with hunger, but she ignored it. She'd gone without food often enough that that wasn't difficult. She knew that she'd have to try to find food the next day to keep her strong enough to continue walking through these woods, but her first task had been to get a lot of distance between her and the place her master had left her to decrease the odds of being reacquired if he should go looking for her. She assumed that the odds were slim. He wouldn't have left her that way if he hadn't been sure of her imminent death, or if he'd had any designs on keeping her. Still, it seemed prudent to be on the safe side.

Now it was getting dark, and she figured that she needed somewhere to sleep where she hopefully wouldn't attract any more wolves. She searched for a short time as the shadows lengthened around her, and finally found a decently high and wide branch in a tall, thick tree. She was a little worried about falling out of the tree in her sleep, but she didn't sleep that heavy and she thought that a bump on the ground would be preferable to fighting a wolf with a knife that burned her hand to touch.

It took her a little while to find the best way to get up to the branch, but once she did, she felt secure enough. Leaning against the tree, she found that it was curved just right with the branch so she was kind of wedged into the space. She would be unlikely to fall. Still, she unrolled the knife bundle just in case and ignored the stinging burn long enough to stick the knife into the bark of the tree close at hand.

The day had been exhausting for her, and she had little trouble falling asleep despite her awkward perch. The peace of dreamless sleep, however, was more elusive. She dreamt of pain and cruel men, as she almost always did, and woke covered in a sweat that had left her shivering in the cool morning air. She leapt from her perch and landed on the ground, crouched, teeth bared, silver knife in hand, ready and eager to kill.

The burn of the knife cleared her head and reminded her of the previous day. As she dropped it, she blinked deliberately a few times and struggled to orient herself. Never in her life… Okay, honestly, only twice in her life has she been that eager for violence. The last time had been with the wolf. The first time… She didn't let herself think about that. Somehow though, this had been worse.

She examined the strange sensation as she climbed the tree again to retrieve her robe. Her hand hurt from holding the knife, but she ignored it. This time had been worse because it hadn't been merely violence that she'd craved. Survival had not been her underlying goal. Even personal safety had not been her primary concern, though it had been the instigating factor. No, she'd wanted blood. She'd _wanted_ to kill.

She shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold that still gripped her body. She understood the urge for violence – for blood. She'd seen it before, so many times. She saw it in the eyes of her masters and those they invited into their homes. She'd seen that empty, evil malevolence so often that she'd finally stopped looking into people's eyes. Now, she felt it. That was new – sort of. The few times that urge had risen in her before, she'd crushed it before it could take root. Ever since the first time she'd given into it, she'd refused to do so again. It had become one of so many faded memories.

Now, it felt like a part of her. Sorrow and rage built inside her until she lost all ability to control herself and she threw back her head and screamed. The sound was carnal – animal – a howling curse sent out at the world and damn the consequences of the attention it might draw.

The sound itself though, was enough to quiet the rage that had been so uncontrolled just a moment before. It frightened her. In that moment that she'd given in, she'd felt every bit as inhuman as she'd sounded.

She was _not_ a beast! She took no pleasure in the pain of others. She had no desire to do harm to anyone or anything… Despite her momentary loss of control, she refused to believe otherwise.

She forced her emotions away and called upon her logic to sooth her as she gathered her knife and bundled it again before she started away from the tree. The light wasn't bright. The sun had probably just come up, and she needed to move to warm up.

Her rage and bloodlust, she reasoned, were probably a result of her new freedom. Deep down, she knew that she would kill before being taken again, and knowing that was setting loose a part of her that she'd kept buried for most of her life. She was unlikely to become the monster that she feared out here where there was no one to kill, but after feeling that momentary loss of control, she realized that she still had to be careful. Solitude brought her peace, but her emotions could still be a danger to her, even if they didn't hurt anyone else.

As she walked, she turned her focus to more immediate problems. First, she was cold. She knew that some parts of the world got very cold in the winter. Was she in that part of the world? She didn't know. Aside from her apathy toward time and place, her previous master had kept her only a couple of months. She had no way of knowing if that had been the cold part or the warm part since he had not let her outside, or even out of the basement during the daytime very often. She had no idea how far she'd traveled from her last master to this one. She didn't even remember the trip actually. It might not have been far, but she didn't know if her last master had lived in a cold part of the world either.

She knew that her master spoke English with an American accent, like the one her mother had had. Like the one she had when she spoke – which wasn't often. Still, she _had_ seen a globe before. She knew that America was a big place. Knowing that she was in America didn't tell her much.

If it _did_ get cold here, she could expect to die soon. She had no clothing. She didn't know how to make a fire. She had no shelter, though she expected that she could make one if she could bring herself to commit to staying in one place long enough. The shelter wouldn't help against cold much though, not without fire or clothes. She wondered how painful it would be to freeze to death. Maybe she would use her knife to open her wrists or her neck before it came to that, but she didn't want to. Despite the welcoming embrace she'd felt from death, she actually found that she desired it less today than she ever remembered before. She still didn't fear it, of course, but she felt like she would do almost anything to prevent it. _Almost_ anything though, did not include going anywhere near people or accepting another master that would give her shelter and food.

Food. She needed food. Her last master hadn't fed her well, and she wasn't sure when the last time she'd eaten had been. She knew that her weariness wasn't all a product of walking all day and sleeping in a tree or her unsettled nerves or uncertain future. She was weary with hunger, and her thirst was starting to become painful. She needed water first, she decided, then food. Finding a shelter and worrying over winter would come later.

The sun had passed overhead when the girl finally emerged from the woods at the bank of a small river after following the sound of water for a while. The suddenness of her emergence from the woods startled her and she instinctively crouched back into the shadows of the brush as she surveyed the area for signs of danger. People were her first concern, and animals her second. After a long careful look and listen, she was convinced that she was alone and she moved out of the brush slowly at first.

When she didn't see any movement, the urgency of her thirst crushed her wariness and she all but dove into the edge of the river, sticking her face right into the water to fill her mouth. It tasted strange in a way she couldn't quite describe, but it was wet and that was all her body cared about. She gulped the water with just her mouth first, and then with cupped hands. When she finally felt sloshy instead of thirsty, it occurred to her that she was cold, and she quickly backed out of the water she'd been squatting in.

With her most urgent need sated, the next most urgent reared its head in the form of a painfully growling stomach. She knew that she needed to find food of some sort within the next couple days, or risk becoming too weak to find it, but she wasn't even sure how to begin. She'd heard of hunting, but with nothing but a small knife that burned to even touch, she didn't think she could actually kill anything even if she could get close enough to try.

Her mind struggled to find a solution to her problem while she paced the bank of the river to keep herself warm while she dried off. She was a survivor. She knew that. She'd survived a lot of things that should have killed her. She'd survived by using her head instead of listening to the urges of her body. Her body was so hungry that the trees were starting to look edible. Her mind told her that eating trees would be unlikely to make her strong and likely to give her splinters in her mouth.

As she paced, she kicked a rock and her eye fell on a slug that had started to make a lazy escape. Like the trees, this looked like food, but she was sure that it wouldn't be painful. She wasn't sure if it would make her sick or not, but she was rapidly losing her ability to care about that. When _was_ the last time her master had fed her?

With a mental shrug, she squatted and picked up the slug, crushing its little black head so it wouldn't bite her – she didn't know if it could or would, but no point in taking the chance. It didn't necessarily smell edible, and it certainly didn't look it, but she was hungry. She let her body make the decision and popped it into her mouth.

She chewed twice before she swallowed. It had a slightly bitter taste, a little crunch, and a lot of slime. She'd had worse. Her stomach seemed pleased by it, so she went in search of more, promising herself that she would stop after a few and wait to see if it made her sick before eating any more.

She ended up eating more than a few, but she finally forced herself to stop. Now that she didn't expect to soon die of hunger or grow too weak to move much, she had another need to address. She wasn't too cold in the middle of the day, but she knew that the previous night had been cold. Warmth would take precedence over security tonight.

She wanted to stay by the water for fear that she might have difficulty finding her next drink, but there was a small but persistent voice in the back of her head insisting that she needed to go further from the place she'd been dumped in order to be safe. She assumed that that voice was the result of one of her emotions that had been leaking back out since she'd become free. Logic allowed her to ignore it and she searched the area for a warmer place to spend the night.

As the sun went down, the girl wedged herself into a little nook in between some boulders and buried herself in mostly dry leaves she'd collected. That anxious little voice inside rebelled against the idea of sleeping somewhere that would be nearly impossible to flee if something came from above, but she reminded herself that survival had more necessities than simply avoiding or winning physical battles against tangible enemies. Cold was an enemy too, and she didn't have many weapons to fight that. She remembered overhearing something – her master watching TV perhaps – about food being necessary to retain body temperature in extreme environments. She barely had enough food to keep her moving if it was warm. She had no clothes. She needed a shelter to fight this enemy and at the moment, that meant hunkering down in the rocks. She thought she would be unlikely to be spotted there anyway.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	4. Chapter 4

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

CHAPTER 4

The girl was just starting to drift toward sleep when she felt something that startled her awake. She didn't feel cold anymore – quite the opposite – she felt feverish. She gasped as she struggled out of the leafy bed, welcoming the cold air on her hot skin. Her mind flashed back to her meal of grubs and she thought that must have been wrong. They must have poisoned her.

But then she climbed up onto the rocks, and the light of the now-full moon caught her eyes and held it. She felt the heat build inside her with a kind of anxious energy that left her twitching like a junkie in need of a fix. The feeling was so amazing, that she quickly stopping fighting it, and then she stopped thinking about it. Questions and their answers ceased to matter. The only thing that mattered was the now. And now… she was hungry.

The girl opened her eyes slowly and squinted against the blinding light of the sun. She tasted blood in her mouth, but there was nothing strange about that… until she realized that it didn't taste like her blood. She looked around her slowly and remembered where she was. But the blood…

She tried to get up and stumbled when her arms and legs didn't move the way she expected. Her first thought was that she had broken bones, but then her gaze fell on her hands… no feet, or rather _paws_… She turned her head to look at the rest of her body and was absolutely as bewildered as she had ever been. She would have thought it a dream, but she was sure that she was not creative enough to dream up something like this.

Her entire body was covered in shiny, sleek black fur. She was standing on four large paws, and she had a tail. She couldn't be positive without the ability to look in a mirror, but she was pretty darn sure that she was in the body of a wolf. Of all the strange things that had happened in the last few days, this was undoubtedly the strangest.

It didn't seem possible, but her eyes told her that that fact didn't seem to matter. Maybe she'd finally gone completely crazy and could no longer distinguish between reality and fantasy. Maybe this was a delusion of some kind. If that was the case, she thought it a fantastic mercy that her insanity should come in such an agreeable package. She wasn't cold with that coat of fur, and she wasn't hungry anymore.

She remembered the previous night now, but in an odd way. She seemed to have been driven mostly by instinct the night before, not conscious thoughts or decisions. She was hungry, so she'd hunted. She remembered a small deer. She'd tracked and caught it easily in this body and eaten it raw of course. It had been delicious. She didn't know if that was because she'd been so hungry or because there was more wolf in her than just body. Something told her it was the latter but it might have been both.

The girl – the wolf – got up on four legs and stretched, coughing a wolfish laugh of delight. She felt better than she ever remembered feeling before. She felt incredibly strong and even more agile. Now that she wasn't expecting her body to work as her human body, she had no difficulty in controlling it. Moving this way came as naturally as moving on two legs. Her senses were so strong. She could hear the birds, the sound of running water in the distance, and quiet skittering of little feet as rodents scampered through the trees and over dead leaves. She could see with more clarity over distance and through shadows than ever before. She could smell the trees and rotting leaves, moss, dirt, water, and… Exhaust from cars. She didn't feel quite so secluded with her new senses as she had with her old ones. Still, she was sure now that she would sense another human coming with more than enough time to flee.

She barked another laugh as she turned in the opposite direction of the breeze that carried the smell of civilization and she ran. Her muscles worked in perfect harmony as four paws beat the ground beneath her, propelling her to greater speeds than she'd ever imagined traveling without the propulsion of a motor.

She didn't know if she believed in God or not, but maybe she believed in Karma now. Was this her reward for a lifetime of pain? First, she'd been delivered into freedom in these woods, and now she'd somehow acquired a body that would allow her to make these woods her home easily and maybe even comfortably. She had to be a lot safer now than she'd ever been as a naked girl with a knife. Few predators would challenge her now. She would not starve. She would not freeze. She would never be the subject of a man's will or the instrument of his malicious, carnal pleasures. She would _kill_ anyone that tried…

Her claws dug into the soil as she wrenched herself to a stop. Yes, she could kill now more easily than ever before. Did she _want_ that? Even as her mind answered no, another part of her mind contradicted her. Part of her wanted to go back to the city right then and track down her master and tear him into tiny pieces with her sharp teeth and claws. She wanted him to suffer and to die for what he had done to her… Part of her started moving her feet in that direction.

_No!_ She forced herself to stop, but it wasn't easy. She had been hurt and she wanted revenge, but that wasn't who she was. That other part of her tried to argue again.

_That _is_ who we are!_ That part argued. _We don't have to hide anymore!_

The girl felt the burning desire to agree, but she banished it furiously. _This gift can bring us peace._ She reasoned. _Hunting our old masters would be satisfying, but it would bring no peace. They are gone. The past doesn't matter. Our future has never looked so good as it does now. We can't risk losing that by going back to the city._

Slowly, unwillingly, that other part subsided in reluctant agreement.

The girl took a deep breath and started out again at a comfortable jog… trot? She tried to rationalize the changes while she ran. Whatever had happened to her that made her a wolf, also seemed to have brought out her violent side – or maybe it was simply the power of her new form that brought it out. Either way, she was going to have to be careful with herself or risk becoming the beast she resembled.

So how had she turned into a wolf? Was it magic? Had God himself finally intervened in the course of her destiny?

She tried to line up what she knew. Aside from the advantages of the new body and her disturbing desire to kill everyone who'd ever hurt her and everyone who _might_ ever try it, she still felt like herself inside this new body.

She struggled to remember the last moments when she knew that she was still human. She remembered waking up and feeling feverish. It seemed unlikely now that her snack of grubs had had anything to do with _that_ particular change. If they were the cause, she suspected that those grubs would be in high demand.

She'd left her makeshift shelter because she was so warm. She was anxious too, like she'd never felt before. And then she'd started shaking before she finally gave in to the need that she didn't understand. The need…

Suddenly it all made sense. Sort of. The moon. She remembered the moon. It had been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, as though she'd never truly seen it before. It had called to her and she'd felt the need to answer that call, only she hadn't been able to do it in her human body, so she'd changed.

The moon made her think of a story she'd read a long time ago. She didn't remember the name or much else about it anymore, but now that she was thinking about it, she remembered that it was about werewolves. Werewolves were people that turned into wolves. Or was it half-wolf, half-man? She thought that there were stories about both. People turning into wolves at the call of the full moon. It was the only explanation she had that made any sense at all, though admittedly, she'd always believed the story to be made up.

But didn't someone have to bitten to become a…

She froze again. The wolf she'd killed… It hadn't been a wild beast. It had been a man in the shape of a wolf, just as she was now a girl in the shape of a wolf. She'd killed a man…

She shook her head heavily from side to side and banished the feelings of guilt that were leaking through her emotional barricades. Even if he wasn't just a wolf, he was still a beast. She did not doubt what she'd seen in his body language. He'd been looking at a meal. And he had attacked her first. Yes, she'd had a knife, but he couldn't have really believed that she was a threat in the condition she'd been. No, there was no guilt for his death. It was kill or be killed and she'd chosen the former, even though at the time she'd thought that she would more likely die than kill the thing – or both as a best-case scenario.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	5. Chapter 5

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 5

"Sir," Nathan Freeman said, bowing his head respectfully as he entered the Marrok's office. "I've just been informed that Cal Layman has been found dead."

The Marrok sat back in his chair thoughtfully, a slight crease in his brow the only indicator that he was at all upset by the news. It was no secret that the Marrok had never gotten along with Cal, but dead werewolves so close to Aspen Creek were never good news.

Personally, Nathan had needed to suppress a smile when he'd first heard the news, despite the implications. Cal had been an all-around jerk to the point that he'd had to go lone wolf for the simple reason that no one could stand him. The man had such a violent nature that many were surprised the Marrok had even allowed him to live. Nathan was pretty sure that Cal's continued breathing had been a matter of some debate when he'd chosen to exile himself to a life more wolf than man in the mountains. Now, finally, the bastard was dead.

"How did he die?" the Marrok asked in a tone that portrayed no urgency. Bran, the Alpha wolf of Alpha wolves in North America, almost never portrayed any urgency. When he did, it was best to be far away.

"Stabbed in the ear," Nathan said, knowing that his body and tone were neutral. He'd gotten over his pleasure for the news but he would not mourn that monster either. "The blade was gone, but the wound smelled of silver."

"Stabbed," Bran said, mostly to himself.

Nathan couldn't read the Marrok's body language, of course – no one could unless he wanted them to – but he was sure he knew the basic course of his thoughts anyway because he'd thought the same thing. When he'd heard that Cal had been killed, he thought another wolf at best, or vampire maybe. Most wolves didn't worry about vampires because their packs were strong enough that the vampires didn't mess with them, but Cal didn't have a pack, and he was exemplary at making enemies. Neither a wolf nor a vampire would be likely to use a knife though.

"He was in his wolf form. The knife wasn't big, and he had only the one wound, though it probably killed him instantly," Nathan continued, deciding that it would probably be best to give the whole story without making the Marrok drag it out question by question. "The only scent there besides his was a human female. Her blood was all over the place, including in Cal's mouth, but she was long gone."

"He attacked a human?" Bran asked, portraying surprise and dismay, which he must have meant to be visible, since they were.

"Looks that way, sir," Nathan admitted. "No human's gonna attack a wolf that size with nothing but a small knife. Even werewolf hunters aren't dumb enough to try hunting us without a gun and silver bullets." Werewolf hunters were an unfortunate bi-product of their recent exposure to the public. They'd come out to the public and admitted what they were, and for the most part, it had been okay so far. There were some idiot Van Helsing wannabes though. "Richard was the one that collected the body. Since the woman was obviously bleeding and bitten at least once by Cal, he thinks she was probably attacked and managed to get in a lucky hit."

"You disagree," the Marrok stated with certainty.

"Yes, sir," Nathan agreed, "At least in part." He'd gotten used to the Marrok's near-omniscience so it didn't bother him so much anymore. "First off, I don't see why she'd be carrying a silver knife unless she suspected trouble of our sort. It still doesn't make sense that she'd go looking for him, but she can't be completely ignorant and be carrying around a silver knife. Second, I saw the wound before they burned Cal's body, and the chances that that was a lucky hit… Not likely."

"Why is that?" the Marrok asked, apparently only mildly curious.

"Because it was perfect. She only hit him once. Her little silver knife went right into the softest part of his ear at just the right angle to drive through the center of his brain. No chance to heal from that, even if it wasn't silver. No random woman is going to hit that on the first try. Her reaction should have been to go for the main body mass if she thought it was just a wolf, right? Puncturing a lung would slow down a normal wolf, and the skull's not the obvious ideal for a small knife. It just doesn't feel right, sir."

Bran nodded thoughtfully, "I think you're right about that, but I also doubt that an informed human would go looking for trouble with any wolf, particularly Cal Layman, and bring only a knife. I assume that no one scented any magic?"

Nathan shook his head quickly.

"Not a witch then, so I can only assume that this woman was either a victim who got lucky despite the odds against such luck, or a victim who was more capable than Cal thought – a soldier maybe or a martial artist. I need to know who this woman is. Since we haven't heard about any werewolf sightings, I assume that either she didn't tell anyone, _couldn't_ tell anyone, or assumed that Cal was just a wolf – his coloring was close enough that someone inexperienced with wolves could make the mistake. Did you find her trail leading away from the body?"

Nathan shook his head again. "It's been raining down there for two days, sir. The only reason we caught her scent at all is because of all the blood that had soaked through the upper layers of leaves. If she was bleeding when she left the area, it wasn't enough to leave a trail that could withstand the rain."

Bran nodded once, "Okay then. Find the woman. If she was bleeding, she probably went to a hospital. If not… If there's an untrained rogue female wandering around Yellowstone, we need to know about it. Send Richard to check on the hospitals, you head out to Yellowstone and see if you can pick up any trace of an unfamiliar wolf out there."

"Yes, sir," Nathan bowed his head to the Marrok before backing up a few steps and hurrying out the door. He knew that the Marrok would never attack him without a good reason, but even after two years in Aspen Creek as Bran's third in lieu of his son Samuel who'd gone lone wolf, he still found it hard to turn his back on the most dangerous werewolf in North America, probably the world. Bran never seemed to take offense to it, so he didn't fight his instincts on it too hard.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	6. Chapter 6

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 6

The girl who looked like a wolf had been traveling in directly the opposite direction of any and all smells of civilization for days, and she was starting to feel safe. She hadn't seen any humans since she'd been out there and not a single wild animal had troubled her. She could smell water from so far away, that she never worried about thirst. When she was hungry, she hunted and ate bloody meat raw, which tasted just fine to her. The nights were getting colder, so she was pretty sure that winter was coming and she was not in a warm part of the world, but she didn't worry for that anymore. Her thick fur coat kept her comfortable even when she'd had to wade across a shallow river. Mostly she just jumped over rivers – since she could jump so far with ease – but she had discovered that she could not swim. Her body seemed to be too heavy for even her huge paws to keep her afloat.

She'd never felt more peace than she did now, but she was surprised by the loneliness she felt. She'd never in her life desired any kind of companionship. She didn't like or trust people and only found comfort in solitude, but now… That soft but insistent voice in the back of her head told her that they didn't want to be alone.

It had bother her some when she'd realized that that voice sounded much more lucent than it should, and it didn't always think the way she did. She was also disturbed by her tendency to think of herself with a plural. "We" and "Us" were not something that someone should use when talking to herself. She wondered if that meant that she was crazy, but she didn't think so. She certainly didn't _feel_ crazy despite the violent urges she sometimes got.

She was starting to get a handle on the whole werewolf thing. Two nights ago, she'd actually managed to revert to her human form just to see if she could really do it, but it had been a frightening few minutes before she'd managed to make the change back to wolf. She'd wanted to know that she could do it, but she did not want to remain human. She was much safer and more durable as a wolf, and she didn't know how to hunt as a human. She needed her wolf to survive out here, and now she was confident that she would not lose it.

She could only guess that her suddenly dual personality was a werewolf thing too. That other part of her did have a tendency to function more on instincts than the logic and reason that she'd always relied upon so much. Maybe that part _was_ the wolf, like her spirit had joined with a wolf spirit to make them a werewolf. She didn't know anything about myth or religion except what she'd read in those few books she'd managed to snitch from her masters when she was younger. Her last few masters hadn't had any books lying around and they hadn't left her any access to TV or radio either. When she was young, she'd been kept in the master's room as a showpiece, but when she'd gotten older, she hadn't been pretty enough for that anymore and she was just used for physical pleasure, so she'd gotten fewer privileges.

She knew that her wolf wasn't dumb, since she could obviously communicate with her, but she was primal in a lot of ways. The girl had recognized the necessity to control the wolf that first day, but she understood now that they had to work together. The wolf wasn't a part of herself that she could bury and ignore like her emotions or her aggression. The wolf was a thinking creature and she would not crush it the way her masters had crushed her.

The wolf wanted companionship for them now, but she couldn't imagine how she could possibly consent to that. She refused to go back to any city or any master, and how else would she find companionship? She didn't want to kill anyone, but she feared that she would if she felt threatened, particularly with her wolf's violent tendencies.

Another full moon came and went in similar fashion, and then two. Snow came and blanketed the forest, but she didn't mind. She didn't know where she was, but she knew that there was a lot of land where humans seldom ventured and she once again counted herself blessed to have been so lucky as to have been dumped where she was. She was falling smoothly into the rhythm of living as a wolf, and the only hitch in her peace was Lupa – as she'd taken to calling her wolf.

Lupa's loneliness was taxing on them both. The girl didn't mind it herself, but her wolf craved companionship and Lupa's unease weighed on her. The girl wondered if that was a wolf thing. She was pretty sure that she knew that wolves normally lived and hunted in packs. Lupa wanted a pack. But the girl didn't trust humans, there was no way she was going to trust other wolves like her, even if she could find them. She wondered often if there were a lot of wolves like her in the world or if maybe she was one of few.

One day, as she was lounging lazily in a stream of sunlight that cut through the canopy of the large thicket of trees she was in, the wind stirred more strongly and brought to her nose a scent she'd not encountered in a very long time. Man-scent. The instant the smell hit her nose, she was on her feet.

Her first instinct was to flee the opposite direction as quickly as four legs could carry her, but Lupa stilled her. Her wolf was cautious but intrigued. The girl hadn't even realized the she'd been subconsciously moving further and further from the most secluded regions she'd come to call home. Lupa had been affecting her decisions without her realizing it. That made her uneasy, but she supposed that she hadn't been paying that close of attention.

Lupa wasn't trying to trick her or take control. Her wolf was happy with their arrangement, but she wasn't plagued by uncertainty as the girl was. Lupa knew what she wanted, and she was taking steps to achieve it. She didn't want to be alone anymore.

Instead of running, the girl lowered herself onto her belly and searched for the source of the smell. It was strong enough that she knew he was close and she knew he was a man, but she couldn't see him through the trees. Slowly, she stalked toward the edge of the thicket, crawling on her belly to avoid notice. It was nearly midday, and a black wolf stood out in the snow, but she knew that she moved almost silently despite her crawl. She suspected that a human would have a lot of difficulty hearing her.

As she drew closer to the edge of the trees where she knew she would catch sight of him, she could hear him walking. His pace and step suggested that he was unaware of any danger. He wasn't moving fast, but not slow either – a comfortable pace. Finally, she poked her head into some brush at the edge of the trees and she saw him. At first, she didn't see anything remarkable about him, but then she heard Lupa snarl and she looked closer to see what had set the she-wolf off.

That's when she noticed the long black barrel protruding from the crook of his arm. He was carrying a rifle. He turned slightly in her direction and she got a better look at it. 30-30, she thought, and no scope. Without a scope, she read the weapon as more for defense than offense. He intended to use it at close range, probably if he was threatened. Either that or he was a really good marksman and enjoyed the challenge. That was possible, but her instincts told her not. The man didn't move like a predator – and she'd seen enough to know the difference.

Still, Lupa did not like it that a man had brought a weapon into her territory. She heard a growl rumble up her throat before she was conscious of it. She cut it off quickly, but the man had already heard.

He was turned toward them, and his rifle was against his shoulder though he hadn't raised it yet. He was looking in their general direction, but he couldn't see them through the brush.

The girl fought against Lupa's need to attack before he could raise the weapon at them. She knew now that this man was definitely no predator. His stance was purely wary, not malicious or eager. She could smell his fear. Her struggle against Lupa pushed another growl from her throat before she could stop it and the man seemed to see them. He raised the weapon, and Lupa reacted.

They sprang from concealment and barreled right toward the man with all the speed of a werewolf. The girl's ears rang painfully from the crack of the gun firing, and then she was on top of him. The gun was no longer in his hands and her teeth were driving toward his throat for the kill.

The girl managed to wrestle back control just in time to stop her teeth from touching his flesh. This man was no hunter, no predator, no master. He reeked of fear and nothing else. There was no disappointment or anything else that might suggest malicious tendencies. He was not the monster here… She was.

That horrible revelation was enough to force Lupa to settle down as she slowly backed off the man, careful not to hurt him. A twinge in her shoulder informed her that he had not missed with the single shot he'd managed to fire, but she didn't think it was fatal. She bowed her head to the man and tucked her tail between her legs, sinking down onto her belly to show him that she was no threat. She whimpered softly in apology since her wolf form was not capable of speech.

The man remained stock still for several long seconds before he finally found the courage to leap to his feet and sprint in exactly the opposite direction from her.

The girl watched him go, wondering if she should go after him to make sure that he was okay. She decided not. If he could run like that, then he was in good enough shape to get back to whatever part of civilization he called home. He smelled of fear, but not much pain. She hadn't done any serious damage when she'd tackled him.

Lupa gave the urge to give chase when he ran, but at the moment, the girl had no difficulty in ignoring her wolf. Lupa had done something that they should not have done, and they both knew that now. Even the wolf knew that he was a danger no longer, and had never been much of one. Even with that gun they could have escaped, but it wasn't in the nature of her wolf to flee an aggressor, particularly in her own territory.

She huffed a big sigh and started a limping trot back toward the lands more fully separated from humanity. They were too dangerous to share land with humans.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	7. Chapter 7

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 7

"You called me, sir?" Nathan asked, bowing his head obediently as he entered the Marrok's office.

"I've just received a call from our guy at the Yellowstone rangers' office," Bran informed him. "He says that one of the other rangers is claiming to have been attacked by a werewolf in the park today."

"Attacked?" Nathan asked, surprised. Werewolves didn't attack humans unprovoked very often, since it was against the rules, but when it happened, the human rarely survived without being Changed.

"He stands by his man," Bran shrugged as though there was no way the man could be lying to him. Of course, with the Marrok, that was probably true. Even if he couldn't smell or hear a lie – which was unlikely, even over the phone – there were few brave enough to even attempt to lie to him. "He doesn't think the man would have intentionally provoked an attack, but he admits that the man doesn't know a lot about werewolves."

Nathan nodded his understanding. When dealing with a dominant or unstable wolf, it was very easy for the average human to provoke a wolf accidentally.

"He was carrying a rifle," Bran continued, "for protection, but if a wolf has set up territory out there…" he didn't bother to finish that. Even your average human looked like a threat when carrying a rifle in your territory.

"The ranger survived?" Nathan asked curiously.

Bran smiled slightly, "He said the wolf let him go." His smile turned abruptly to a frown. "He says he shot the wolf. He thinks that's why he let him go. Because he was wounded."

"Not likely," Nathan said aloud, though they both knew it. A wounded wolf was many times more likely to kill the one who'd wounded him than let him go. Anything but a highly fatal wound would have been ignored in the heat of the moment if the wolf were already on the attack. Nathan wondered if the wolf had even attacked at all. He couldn't imagine any but perhaps a very submissive wolf not killing the man after being shot. Maybe the ranger was wrong about hitting him…

Bran nodded.

"You think it might be the woman that killed Cal?" he wondered. They'd been unable to find any sign of her going to a hospital, but he hadn't found any sign or scent of a wolf in the area either. They'd assumed that she either wasn't injured that badly or she'd been doing something illegal and was too afraid to go to the hospital. Something like hunting werewolves.

Bran shrugged as though he doubted it, "This was over a hundred miles from where Cal was killed, and if the ranger is to be believed, the wolf was much larger than average." Females were almost never so large.

"What did he look like?" Nathan wondered, accepting Bran's theory. The Marrok was very rarely wrong.

"Black coat, blue eyes," Bran sighed. "That and his size were as much as the ranger could give for description.

"A lone wolf passing through?" Nathan wondered.

Bran shook his head, "Not many lone wolves that would pass so close to Aspen Creek without telling me about it. Still, whether he's a lone wolf or an untrained rogue, I want to talk to him and find out what really happened this morning. And I want to know what he's doing in Yellowstone without my permission. Since the ranger lived, I've no desire to see this wolf harmed if it can be helped. I'm sending you over there to find him and bring him back here."

"And if he doesn't want to come?" Nathan asked grimly, assuming that he already knew the answer.

"It's not a request," Bran said softly.

Nathan nodded. That meant he was supposed to bring the wolf willing or not and was authorized to kill him if he had no other choice. He bowed his head and paced backward to the door before turning around.

The Marrok's man at the ranger station, Alex Simmons, drove Nathan out to the spot the other ranger had claimed to have been attacked.

Nathan smelled the air as he scanned their surroundings as soon as the jeep stopped. He saw no sign of a wolf and he smelled only an old trail, so he quickly stripped out of his clothes and shifted into his wolf form where his senses were even more acute and he could travel a lot faster on foot. The change was long and painful, but Alex waited patiently after packing Nathan's clothes into a pack he could carry. Alex's grandfather was a werewolf. He hadn't found out about that until after they'd gone public, but he'd been really excited to meet his grandfather – who was his only living family – and had accepted the wolves without question.

When he'd completed the change, Nathan climbed to his feet and shook the lingering painful tingles out through his thick gray and silver coat.

Alex showed him where he'd found the gun and pointed out the bush that his friend had claimed the wolf had been hiding in.

_What were you doing in the bushes?_ Nathan wondered. Observing to see if the ranger was a threat, or hunting prey? The former seemed more likely since the ranger had survived it. A hunting wolf wasn't likely to let a lone human escape, hunting rifle or not. The scene was only twenty-four hours old, and the scent was still fresh enough. Nathan picked it up in the bushes at once and was almost certain that it was female. The ranger must have been telling fish stories about the wolf's size.

As he trotted back over to the scene of the fight, he picked up another scent that surprised him. Apparently the ranger had not been lying about shooting her. He could smell wolf blood and, more faintly, gunpowder. He pawed at the snow, and under the fresh coat that had fallen the previous night, he found it stained red with blood. He recognized it easily as the female's blood.

Females were more likely to be submissive than males for some reason – probably because more dominant females didn't get Changed as often – and he was convinced that this one must be to have let that ranger live after being shot. She'd obviously had the strength to leave the area after being hit, so she'd most likely survived it since the ranger hadn't been using silver bullets. He'd been told that, but he was sure now – he would have smelled it in the blood.

He dipped his head once in a nod to Alex and then took up his small bag and started after the trail. Carrying the bag in his teeth would make it more difficult to track by scent, but he didn't regret bringing it. He was tracking a female and he was pretty sure that it was a recently Changed female, since females practically never went lone wolf. Most likely, she wouldn't be comfortable talking to him if he was naked. He hadn't brought anything warm enough to spend much time on two feet, but it would make him decent to talk to her. Coed nudity among wolves wasn't a big deal, but it took most of them a year or two or get comfortable with it.

She'd left a blood trail leading away from the thicket, deeper into the park. It was covered in snow now, but his nose didn't have trouble following what his eyes couldn't see most of the time. There wasn't a lot of blood, so he wasn't too worried for her safety. So long as she hadn't set too hard a pace, the wound should have healed just fine.

It took him about two hours to find the place she'd apparently bedded down. The blood was thicker there, but the trail leading away from it was free of blood, so she must have stayed until the wound was closed.

Following a trail that was less than a day old wasn't difficult for his nose even without the blood, and she was wounded, so she was almost certainly moving slower than him. The wound had closed, but it would still be tender and painful for at least a day. He wasn't concerned about any difficulty in finding her.

He was sure that her trail was no more than a couple hours old when the sun set and he decided to sleep the night and pick up the trail in the morning. If she was only a couple months old like he thought – he was convinced that she was the same one that had killed Cal – she was probably somewhat unstable. Even a submissive would have trouble controlling the wolf under circumstances such as these, and he really didn't want to surprise her in the middle of the night.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	8. Chapter 8

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 8

The girl was just bedding down for the night when she caught the scent that Lupa instinctively knew as werewolf. Her wolf was eagerly excited to meet the wolf. They would make friends or kill him, the wolf reasoned. She was not a creature of many layers, that wolf… The girl was decidedly more reticent. Their last encounter on behalf of Lupa's drive for companionship had almost left an innocent man dead. Also, there was the threat this wolf could pose to consider. He was not a human to be easily avoided or killed as necessary. He would be strong and fast like her.

She hadn't really had to consider such an equal meeting in a long time. She didn't know what she should do. As usual, though, her uncertainty gave strength to Lupa's unflappable conviction. There was another wolf in her territory. He was either a friend or an enemy to be here. They would find out which and deal with him accordingly.

She started toward the scent warily, prepared to face feats of strength and senses just as strong as hers. She was careful to remain downwind of him so that he wouldn't smell her as she smelled him. She kept her pace measured and her steps careful so that she moved in near silence.

It took her a couple hours to find him at the pace she allowed, but the wait didn't bother her. It helped her to sort through her feelings about this. She could tell the werewolf was male, and she distrusted men even more than women. She'd never felt any fondness for another human being, but Lupa's loneliness had started to rub off on her. She'd been completely alone a long time.

Lupa wasn't bothered by the wait either. She was absorbed in the method of the hunt. They were stalking, even if it wasn't necessarily prey or enemy, and that brought her contentment the way solitude did the girl. Lupa was more enthralled by this hunt than any time they'd hunted food despite the fact that she wasn't committed to finding a fight or a meal at the end. She was enthralled because they weren't stalking dumb animals this time, but a predator.

Finally, they neared the top of a ridge and stopped, listening. They could hear the deep, level breathing of a large animal sleeping not twenty yards away. Filled with the thrill of the hunt, Lupa wanted to leap over the rise and challenge the interloper to fight or submit, but the girl held her in check. She was not quite so eager to test herself against this unknown wolf.

Despite Lupa's protests, she decided that she would determine if this wolf was friend or foe without a fight if it was possible. She pushed her wolf away and forced down all thoughts of violence as she'd learned to do when she was a child to keep herself alive. Then, she tucked her tail between her legs and crested the rise, making herself appear as unthreatening as possible as she let her feet crunch loudly through the patches of snow and bracken.

The other wolf was smaller than her, she noticed with relief. Her extra weight would help if it came to a fight. She also noticed that he was beautiful, and that shocked her. She'd never thought of a man as beautiful, but this wolf was. He was silver with black paws and forelegs, and his muscles looked sleek and strong under that thick fur.

He stirred almost immediately at the sound of her now-heavy footsteps.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	9. Chapter 9

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 9

Nathan woke to the sound of heavy paws on the snow not twenty yards away. The steps were not aggressive, so he forced himself to move slowly instead of leaping up to face the threat as his instinct dictated. Three years ago, he would not have been able to manage that, but it was not so difficult now. Being Bran's third had cooled his blood the way being Alpha of his own pack had heated it.

He raised his head further than he'd expected to in order to almost meet the eyes of the enormous female wolf standing on the rise by his little camp. She was black as night with eyes that almost glowed a pale, silvery blue in the moonlight. The wind was to her advantage rather than his, which explained why he hadn't woken sooner, but the description matched.

He was sure that he'd found his rogue. Still, for an untrained rogue, she seemed very tame. Her eyes focused on his body rather than his eyes in the natural show of submission. Her tail was between her legs and she was hunching slightly. Despite that hunch though, he could easily see that the ranger had _not_ exaggerated her size. Her shoulder was probably almost a foot taller than his and she had about a hundred pounds on him, though he was larger than average. She was probably a little taller than an Irish Wolfhound, though obviously much broader. He'd only seen one or two wolves that big in his entire life, and had never seen a female come even close. Still, the obvious show of submission kept his wolf in check.

He stood up lazily and gave his coat a casual shake to let her know that he didn't mean her any harm. Some submissives could scare quite easily, and then they could be as dangerous as most dominants. She cocked her head to the side as she studied him with apparent curiosity. He wondered if he was the first wolf she'd seen since Cal. Probably, since no one had mentioned her to Bran. That meant that he had to be very careful. She'd killed the last wolf she'd seen, probably the only other wolf she'd ever seen. Luck or not, she had to be wary.

He wished that he could catch her scent to tell if she was afraid. Most submissives naturally felt safe around most dominants because dominants naturally felt the need to protect them, but with her being so new, she might not know that. She might not yet understand her instincts enough to recognize it.

She raised her gaze slowly as far as his muzzle and then dropped it back toward his chest again. Apparently she wasn't taking any chances on letting him think that she was challenging him.

He let her look a little while longer without making any sudden movements, and then decided that he needed to talk to her, so he sat down and started shifting back to his human form. The pain was distracting, but he continued to watch her, wary for her to flee.

She just watched in apparent fascination for a little while, then laid down on her belly and put her head on her paws to watch more comfortably. She didn't avert her eyes at all when his change was completed, so he figured that either his nakedness didn't bother her, or she liked what she saw. It was impossible to tell from her casual vigil and stunning blue eyes that would not rise to meet his for even an instant.

He slipped into his pants anyway, but didn't bother with his shirt. It was cold out, but not really that cold yet, and he didn't plan on being human that long. When he finished with his pants and slipped on his shoes, he looked at her again. She sat up and watched his lips, still avoiding his eyes. He wasn't that surprised by it. Submissives did that naturally when they were around dominants, and he was very dominant. Still, he found himself wondering what a submissive human was doing in the woods with a silver knife. It seemed strange.

"My name is Nathan Freeman," he offered to begin. "The Marrok sent me here because he would like to speak with you."

He still couldn't catch her scent, but the way she cocked her head at that told him that she was both surprised and confused. She probably didn't know who the Marrok was, he realized. The ruling body of the werewolves had not been made public beyond the existence of individual Alphas to lead each pack. The rumor of a leader of the wolves was prevalent, but many didn't believe it, and the "Marrok" wouldn't mean anything to her. "The Marrok is the Alpha of all the other Alphas in North America," he explained patiently, not wanting to push her. Submissive or not, she was huge and he was in human form.

Slowly, she stood up, tail still neatly between her legs, head bowed, and paced warily down the little ridge until she was only about four yards away, then she sat down again, watching his mouth.

He assumed that his change to human had given her a little extra confidence. He wasn't too worried. Even in his human form, he was tough. "He is responsible for every Alpha in North America," Nathan continued to explain in a conversational tone that he didn't think she'd find threatening. He kept his posture open and casual as well. "Through the Alphas, he's responsible for all the wolves in their packs as well. He's also responsible for lone wolves and rogues," he said gently.

She rose just enough to take half a step back at that. This close, he could smell her wariness despite the contradictory breeze. It overcame the rest of her scent almost completely with how strong it was now.

She wasn't precisely scared of him, but she expected that she might be, he guessed.

He lifted his hands in a placating gesture, "It's okay," he assured her, just stopping himself from using his dominance to calm her. It might work, but with how wary she was, it might just cause her to panic too. Feeling the effect of a dominant, particularly one as strong as him, sometimes had mixed results on new wolves. He assumed that with her being submissive, it wouldn't be too difficult to force her to go with him if he had to, but he didn't want to make it any more traumatic for her than he had to. Submissives were usually very sensitive to things like that and they didn't always recover well.

"The Marrok takes care of us," he said gently. "He's a good man. He keeps us safe and he makes sure that the wolves who aren't always so nice don't hurt people. Like the wolf that Changed you," he said carefully. He knew that she had to be thinking about Cal. If she was going to trust him, she had to know that creatures like Cal were not tolerated.

"His name was Cal Layman, and what he did to you, attacking you, that's against our rules. If he'd lived," he said delicately. He didn't know how she felt about killing him. Submissives could be vicious when cornered, but they were usually hard on themselves about it afterward. "The Marrok would have killed him for what he did to you. Wolves like him aren't tolerated, and the Marrok is the one who makes sure that his kind don't hurt innocent people. He's not perfect, of course. He didn't realize that Cal would do what he did to you, but he really does try. That's why he wants to meet you. He wants to make sure that you understand the rules and that you know you don't have to be alone." Being alone was hard on wolves, who were naturally pack animals. It had to have been hard on her to be alone so long.

"I've got a car back at the ranger station. I can take you to see the Marrok," he said after giving her a moment to process. She took another step away from him but he wasn't sure if she was conscious of the move or not. He didn't want her to run away, but he wouldn't try to stop her now if she did. He'd change and then track her again and use his dominance if he had to. "If you have any questions for me, I'll answer whatever I can, but you'll have the Change." He waited a moment, but she didn't move.

"I promise you that the Marrok has no intention of harming you in any way," Nathan said sincerely, and _that_ got her attention fast. Her head shot up and she stared at his chest, watching his body language but not his eyes. "If you want to, I'm sure that the Marrok will let you join his pack, or we can find somewhere else for you where you'll be safe, but so long as you're not a threat to anyone, you will not be harmed or detained."

Her posture changed slightly and he knew that she was considering.

"The Marrok is a good man. He won't let anyone else hurt you either." For just a moment, he smelled hope radiating off her like heat waves in a midsummer desert. Then it was gone. He was surprised. New wolves didn't normally have so much control over their emotions, but he guessed that hope was probably an uncertain concept for someone who'd been living alone in the wilderness for the last two months.

"Come with me," he urged. "Meet the Marrok. He's only a hundred miles from here, up in a little town in the mountains called Aspen Creek."

She hesitated a moment, then growled softly. He didn't think it was directed at him though. It had more the sound of frustration then menace. Finally, she looked back at him and bowed her head once in a nod.

He smiled slightly. He didn't want her to think that he was too delighted, but he was. He'd located the wolf, who was obviously capable of being dangerous, though he didn't think that that was actually in her nature. She was a submissive, which were rare and treasured in almost any pack controlled by the Marrok. And he'd managed to convince her to go back with him without any need for fighting or bullying. It couldn't possibly have worked out better.

"Okay, I'm going to change back because I don't have enough clothes to keep me warm all the way back to the car."

She didn't respond to that, but to sit down again and watch inquisitively as she waited. Again, she did not avert her eyes when he stripped and stuffed his clothes back into his pack. She was closer this time though, and he could smell nothing of arousal from her – which he found oddly disappointing.

He'd never been big on the idea of dating _or_ mating, and he'd never even seen this female in her human form, but he felt strangely drawn to her. Curious; he'd never thought his wolf would be the type to take an interest in a submissive – not that there was anything wrong with them, he just didn't see his very dominant wolf as the sort to want a female he could so easily control – but he knew the interest came from his wolf rather than him, as much difference as there was to that. Very curious…

When he was finished, he shook out his coat again and picked up his bag in his mouth before swinging his head to indicate that she should follow. She didn't respond, but when he started out at an easy trot, she took up a pace beside him, just slightly back so he couldn't see her clearly.

As they jogged back toward the ranger station, he had to put some effort into controlling his wolf's anxiety about her position. For some reason, his wolf saw this submissive female as dangerous – probably because of her size.

And he liked it.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	10. Chapter 10

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 10

With his wolf so seriously contemplating courtship, Nathan found himself entertaining the possibility. He wondered what she looked like in her human form. Wolf size and human size did not always correspond, but they usually did at least to some degree. He was a little larger than the average man, not in height, but certainly in the muscles he'd spent the last few decades building. There were others though, like Bran, that didn't quite fit. Bran was an average size man, but smaller than average wolf – not that that made him any less terrifying. He imagined that this female was probably at least above average in size to turn into such an enormous wolf. He'd always liked small women. Petite and portable, his brother had teased him back before he'd become a wolf.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the streak of black fur that rocketed by him at full speed. She had a longer stride than him, but he'd always been fast, and he managed to catch her up after a little while. He was struggling to understand what she was doing, when she suddenly cut a sharp turn away from him. When he altered his own course to follow, she let him get close, then cut back the other way.

Finally, he noticed the body language she was giving him. She wasn't trying to get away, she wanted to play. Interesting. He'd picked her as more reserved than that, but he wasn't about to complain. His wolf very much wanted to play her game.

And so they spent the rest of the run back to the ranger station that way. He only caught her once, and when he did, she dropped the to ground and let his momentum carry him over the top of her before taking off again. She was exceptionally agile for such a new wolf. She must have spent a lot of time running around in the park over the last couple months.

When the ranger station came into sight, she settled down so suddenly, it left him stunned. She dropped out of her playful stance and crouched with her ears back, staring at the building.

With a sad sigh, he remembered that one of the rangers here had shot her just a couple days before. It was easy to forget that with how spry she'd been. She must have taken good care of herself to heal that fast, and the bullet must have passed straight through. It takes longer than a day or two for a bullet to fester out. He sat down and Changed back right there. Not all the rangers were so keen on werewolves as Alex, and he didn't figure they'd be delighted with public nudity.

"You can change back now if you want to," he advised as he pulled on his pants, ignoring the biting cold of the snow on his feet until he could slip his shoes on. "You don't have to," he offered, "but the drive will be my last chance to answer any questions you might have before we see the Marrok. I have some clothes you could borrow in the car."

She didn't move except to lift her ears peaceably and stare at his chin.

He shrugged, "That's fine too." He was just glad that he had a big SUV with two rows of seats that folded down. She certainly wasn't going to be fitting on top of any of the seats, and he hadn't anticipated that. Most werewolves were only a little bigger than a St. Bernard. This female was something else entirely.

"Just give me a minute to call the station," he said to her as he took his phone out of his pack. "They won't miss you walking across the field and I want to make sure they're not surprised. Some humans are stupid when they're surprised." He smiled a little and smelled vague amusement from her too. Only a really stable werewolf could find amusement in getting shot that wasn't connected to harming the one who'd done the shooting. That was what he loved about submissives. They were an easygoing bunch in a world of hot heads and short fuses. Submissives were relaxing to be around. Maybe that's what his wolf liked about her.

He dialed quickly and the ranger who'd shot the female answered on the second ring.

When she heard his voice through the phone, she slumped a little and bowed her head and he got the sense that she was sorry she'd scared him. Nathan gave her a sympathetic smile as he asked to speak with Alex.

"_Nathan?_" Alex answered.

"Yeah, I just wanted to warn you that I found the wolf I was looking for and we're coming out to my truck. I didn't want to startle you," he explained.

"_You found him? That's great. Now Bob can stop jumping at his shadow_," Alex replied.

Nathan smiled. "Found _her_ actually."

"_Hear that Bob_," Alex said away from the phone. "_You're scared of a girl!_"

Nathan laughed softly and gave the female a shrug. "Well, I'm gonna bring her out now. Keep Bob away from the rifles," he advised lightly.

"_Will do_," Alex responded and Nathan ended the call.

"Sorry about that," he apologized quickly. "Are you ready?"

She stood up and he took that as an affirmative, though she waited for him to lead the way.

Again, his wolf was loving the exciting thrill of danger that he felt for having her at his back. Nathan didn't understand it. He didn't feel a shred of danger from this female except that she might accidentally step on his foot. She was big, but he hadn't sensed even the tiniest shred of aggression from her, even when they'd played on the way here. A dominant would have been walking the line between play and fight doing something like that with another dominant. He didn't have to worry about it because she was submissive. He'd really have to push her to get her to threaten him.

He glanced back at her as they walked across the open field toward the station and his car parked in front of it. She had her head tilted toward the building and she was staring at it, though her ears were up and she appeared calm enough. He could smell wariness again. She didn't want to hurt anyone, but she was afraid they wouldn't feel the same way, he guessed.

When they got to his black Tahoe, she walked around it while he opened the door and started shifting the seats. He noticed that she positioned herself perfectly so that no one in that building would get too clear a look at her, but she was keeping her eye on it in the reflection of the truck window parked next to him. He was impressed by her strategy.

Once he had the seats down so the back was just an open expanse of carpeting, he motioned for her to get in through the back door. She hesitated just a breath before hopping in and he closed it quickly so she wouldn't feel so vulnerable.

When he got in the driver seat, she laid down – taking up the majority of the space – and settled her head on her paws in just such a way that she could watch him. He could smell her uneasiness permeating the vehicle. "You're okay," he assured her as he started the engine. "No one is going to hurt you. I promise."

She just continued to watch him with and expression that looked blank even for a wolf.

"I need to call the Marrok now and let him know that I'm on my way back," he confided as he pulled out his phone again.

She didn't move, but he smelled the uneasiness rolling off her now.

There really wasn't anything more that he could do to reassure her. He could only guess that her experience with Cal had left her uncomfortable with trusting her own kind, but she would understand the truth soon enough. He wished that she could smell his honesty, but detecting lies took practice that she would not have had living in the wilderness all by herself.

"_This is Bran_," the Marrok answered, and the female's ears perked up, though she still didn't move another muscle.

"I found the rogue," Nathan explained. "I'm almost positive that she's the female from Samoya Junction," he said, carefully not mentioning Cal again. "And she matches the description of the ranger's wolf, though she hasn't been eager to Change, so we haven't had a chance to talk."

"_Interesting_," Bran observed neutrally. Of course he would assume that she was within hearing range of both ends of the conversation.

"We're just leaving the ranger's station now," Nathan offered as he was, in fact, just pulling out of the little parking lot and heading toward the highway.

"_Did you have any problems?_" Bran asked curiously.

"None," Nathan assured him. "She's submissive, and I think she was lonely. She actually found me." He glanced down at her apologetically. She smelled… curious and a little insulted. He smiled. "Submissive isn't an insult, it's just a classification," he explained to her quickly. "Submissives are highly valued pack members."

She huffed once, and he smiled.

"_It's good to hear that you didn't have any problems_," Bran said with a little smile in his voice. He would have heard the huff. "_I'll see you both soon then_."

The line went dead, so Nathan closed up the phone and dropped it on the passenger seat.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	11. Chapter 11

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 11

The girl listened carefully to the voice on the other end of that line. A person's voice said a lot about him. The Marrok – Bran – sounded… She wasn't exactly sure. There was a lot of authority in it, but she couldn't detect so much as a hint of malice or cruelty. She didn't think that he was just acting because he knew she would hear, though he obviously did know.

She heard in the Marrok's voice something that quite perfectly fit with the feeling of respect and appreciation she'd sensed from Nathan when he'd described him to her. This was not a man to be trifled with, but she didn't think that he was malicious either. She breathed a little easier when Nathan closed up his phone.

So far, she thought she'd made the right decision. She'd been comfortable enough living in the wilds, but it was hard on Lupa, and she was not a master to dictate when and if she was allowed to have what she wanted. Their deal had always been compromise and Lupa needed this chance the way the girl needed to avoid ever answering to a master again. They were both willing to kill for what they needed, and the girl very much feared – after that ranger named Bob – that Lupa would end up doing just that.

This opportunity seemed to be the best of both worlds. Of course, the girl knew from experience that good things seldom came to her, and never easily, but Lupa was convinced that they were not in great danger. The girl would not have had the courage to follow Nathan back to the Marrok, but Lupa had been adamant, and so here they were.

Despite the way the Marrok's voice had calmed her, the girl felt herself getting jittery again as they sped up on the highway. This felt too familiar to her. She'd been transported like this a few times before – though of course she hadn't been a giant wolf then – and it had always ended with her in the hands of a new master.

_Friend_. Lupa insisted, urging the girl to look at him. She did. He was looking at the road, so she was free to study him for the moment. Despite herself, she liked him. He was strong in a way that made her nervous – not physically, but mentally – but he was kind too. She could feel that from him as clearly as she could feel the raw truth behind his words when he told her that no one would hurt her. No one had ever made her a promise even half so sweet without lying through his teeth. She hadn't been as good at detecting lies before Lupa had joined her, but she'd been good enough. Now, there was no doubt – at least not for Lupa. Nathan was no threat to them.

Lupa's claim that he was a friend was a little harder to swallow. The girl didn't even fully understand what a friend was. The friends of her masters had not always been treated well, though they had often taken liberties with her.

_Our friend._ Lupa insisted again. _Feel it._ She encouraged.

Curiously, the girl followed the line Lupa had suggested, and then she _did_ feel it. It felt like her she-wolf, but it was not. It was Nathan's wolf. It was curious that she could feel his wolf in a way that she could not feel him, but then their wolves were their mystical sides. She felt compassion, intrigue, and… attraction. Nathan's wolf would kill before he would let anyone hurt them.

Lupa settled down happily in response to those feelings, and the girl sensed that Lupa shared the other wolf's sentiment. The girl didn't understand how their wolves could share such feelings after only just meeting, but she couldn't deny them either. Nathan would protect them. She'd never had even the _hope_ before that someone might protect her, and now she _knew _that there was at least one person in the world who would do anything to keep her safe.

She huffed a contented sigh and nuzzled her face into her paws to rest.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	12. Chapter 12

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 12

Nathan was surprised when he felt the female's mood change abruptly. Ever since his conversation with Bran, he'd been feeling her wariness growing slowly toward panic. He'd tried to keep himself as calm as possible so that he wouldn't make it worse, but he'd been concerned that he would need to pull over and use his dominance to settle her down before she did something that would endanger both their lives, particularly since they were doing sixty-five miles an hour.

But then, quite suddenly, all that wariness had just vanished. He could still smell it in the air, but he couldn't actually smell it coming from her anymore. Then she'd huffed a sigh and settled down like she was going to take a nap, and he could smell both happiness and contentment. She must have come to some silent conclusion that pleased her. He was just grateful that she'd managed it before her nerves had gotten any worse, because they'd been starting to get to him, and that sort of thing can get out of hand fast when two wolves start feeding on each other's emotions.

Now, her contentment was making him content, and he willingly fed off that. He loved that about submissives. When they weren't so nervous like she'd been a moment before, they had an amazingly calming effect. He wished he knew her name. It felt wrong to keep thinking of her as "the female", but she didn't seem inclined to be very talkative.

He would have been worried about how fast her emotions changed if she hadn't been a submissive. Normally, it was a sign that was wolf was unstable, but submissives almost never had that problem and Nathan had seen enough of her to know that if she did have any instabilities, they were minor and almost certainly not dangerous to anyone. Ranger Bob's continued survival was a testament to her restraint even under duress.

Her breathing deepened with sleep and Nathan felt his wolf settle back comfortably too. His wolf had already picked her out to mate, and his conviction was getting very strong on that matter. It was strange. Nathan hadn't felt his wolf-side so dominant and separate from him in at least three or four decades and now all of a sudden, he'd reasserted himself to put claim on a female. The last time his wolf had been so aggressive about getting his way, Nathan had barely been able to control him. He'd almost asked to be killed for everyone's protection several times before he got the wolf under control.

Now he was back, and Nathan got the feeling that he wouldn't be happy if he didn't get his way. That's not to say that Nathan had decided to fight him on it. He did like this female despite the fact that he'd never seen her face or heard her voice. There was something about her that made his wolf content, and that alone was a strong mark in her favor.

His wolf had never been very stable. That was the reason that he'd joined Bran's pack three years ago. He'd been an Alpha in Minnesota for decades, but the tensions of the position were bringing his wolf out at times that it shouldn't and he could feel that he was close to the breaking point – close to killing one of his wolves for an insubordinate glance. So he'd stepped down from his pack and drove to Montana, where Bran had taken him in. Within a year, his wolf had settled down enough under Bran's direct leadership that Bran had appointed him as his third when Samuel went back to being a lone wolf. In the two years since, he'd become as stable as he'd ever been.

Now, wonder of wonders, his wolf was back, but not causing any problems. He had finally found a purpose other than violently asserting his dominance. Nathan really hoped that this woman was the kind that he could fall for and that she could fall for him. He didn't want to deny his wolf this. He wasn't sure that he could recover from that, even with Bran's help. In six decades that he'd been a werewolf, he'd never been mated and never felt much desire to change that. He'd been promiscuous as a human, but his wolf had such stronger desires, that he hadn't trusted himself with a human woman and hadn't been able to commit to a werewolf woman, so he'd gone stag except for the occasional mutually casual encounter. It was no secret that he had no interest in relationships. Strange that his wolf would be the one to change that.

Nathan bumped over some snow that had been plowed up in front of the little road that led from the highway to Aspen Creek, and the female started awake. She let out a feral snarl that chilled his blood as she leapt up, smacking her head on the ceiling of the vehicle hard enough that it most likely left a dent. She growled at the ceiling briefly, and bumped into the back wall when her eyes settled on him. Despite the retreat she'd chosen in lieu of an advance, her teeth were bared and her hackles raised.

"Easy," he said in a low, soothing voice as he pulled the truck to a stop so he could turn around and look at her. Her eyes met his for just a fraction of a second before she dropped them, and he felt her calm immediately. He had never in his life seen a submissive wake up like that. He'd never been so intimidated by one either. Maybe she'd been having a bad dream, but he guessed that waking up in an unfamiliar car with a werewolf she barely knew hadn't helped either.

Still, the second she'd really looked at him, she'd completely dropped her aggressive pose. Her tail went down and her head dipped in what looked to him like apology.

"That's all right," he smiled at her. "It's okay, you didn't scare me too much."

She huffed softly and then turned her gaze out the windows as she laid back down.

"We're almost there," he offered as he turned around and put the truck back in drive. He heard her take a deep breath and settle down, but she kept her head up, watching the road now. "Aspen Creek is the best town in the world for werewolves," he explained as he drove slowly down the snowy road. "The town was founded by werewolves and their families and it's populated by them still. Every human in Aspen Creek knows all about werewolves. We don't have to hide here, and we don't have to worry about intolerance," he smiled, glancing over at her since her head was now pushed up between the seats. She looked utterly indifferent.

She crouched down a little whenever they drove past a residence, and she was on her belly, just barely peering over the dash when he passed "Main Street" with both its businesses. Nathan was suddenly very happy that he hadn't been taking her to Missoula or something. Aspen Creek hardly even resembled a tiny town in most aspects. If it made her nervous, then he couldn't imagine she would have even allowed him to take her into a city.

He smelled her wariness again, but she kept a tight reign on it this time. She seemed appropriately wary rather than just a shade off panic as she had been before her nap.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	13. Chapter 13

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 13

As Nathan parked his truck in front of a big brown house, the girl had to fight to keep the growls in her throat. Lupa had faith that Nathan would work to protect them, but despite what she'd felt from his wolf, the girl wasn't so sure. She felt very vulnerable as he opened the back of his truck for her to climb out. It took a decided effort for her to tuck her tail between her legs and play "submissive" some more.

That's what Lupa thought of what she was doing, and Nathan had confirmed it. Lupa hated it. The girl didn't care for it much either, but instincts honed through years of surviving at the hands of dominant, malicious men told her that it would be safer if they didn't see her as a threat. It didn't make her any less than she was, but it would give her the upper hand if it came to a fight. Lupa liked that part, and the logic made her settle down enough that the girl could think about something other than containing her growls.

"This is the Marrok's house," Nathan was explaining as he led her inside.

Part of the girl wanted to snuggle up under Nathan's arm and feel safe. Part of her could never feel safe while touching a man. Even his kind gray eyes couldn't make him anything other than a man to that part. She followed him through the doorway, which seemed awfully narrow in this form, and into a large room.

She cowered a little when she saw the room because it was either that or start growling. There was nothing unpleasant about this room, but the memories it brought to the surface, memories that she'd dismissed the day after they'd happened, were surging back to make her feel threatened. She knew that she would never let herself be hurt like that again, and that desire to fight was trying to make itself known while she was trying to prevent it.

"What's wrong?" Nathan asked, with just a touch of stress in his voice. He took a deep breath like he needed to relax too, and started again, "You're safe here, okay? This is the Marrok's house. Not a single wolf in the whole world could hurt you in this house."

As it had before, that reassurance made her want to curl up at his feet for the rest of her life. He brought her comfort that she had never felt before. She forced herself to bask in that comfort and in his lack of concern and ruthlessly banished the troublesome memories. She focused on the less human side instead. She concentrated on her senses. She could hear a TV or radio upstairs and subtle sounds of movement that was probably just a single person. There were also sounds of movement coming from a room downstairs.

The whole house smelled of unfamiliar wolves, a lot of them, and that tried to raise her hackles before she caught herself and borrowed Nathan's calm again to right herself.

_No one will hurt you._ The voice spoke inside her head like Lupa, but it wasn't Lupa. It was Nathan's voice… almost. It was the voice of Nathan's wolf.

The girl stumbled slightly and spun her head to stare at Nathan in shock. Having her own voice inside her head was one thing, but someone else's? She hadn't even known that was possible.

Nathan stopped and looked at her uncertainly, "What is it?" he asked, though obviously she couldn't answer. At least not verbally, and she suspected that only Lupa could probably talk to him.

She cocked her head as she considered him. He seemed legitimately surprised and concerned by her stumble and her expression. Was it possible that he didn't know that his wolf had spoken to her or was that sort of thing so ordinary here that he hadn't even realized she would find it odd?

No, she realized. He would have realized if it were the latter. He really didn't know that his wolf was telepathically communicating with her… Interesting… And weird. She shook it off and he seemed to get the message that she was over it because he started leading her again, toward the occupied room on the first floor.

He opened the door and led the way into the room.

It looked like an office, but the girl didn't more than glance at the room before her eyes settled on its lone occupant. He had sandy brown hair and a build that was almost lanky. He was of average height and looked as young as Nathan. Somehow, she'd been expecting someone older. She was two steps into the room when she felt his shock, mild though it was.

"They didn't exaggerate about her size," Nathan said and he smelled… satisfied.

"So I see," the Marrok said softly, rising out of his seat and coming around the desk with a step that was both light and deliberate. In fact, everything about him seemed to be deliberate. "I would like to talk to you," he said directly to her, standing a little closer than she was comfortable with. "There are clothes in the bathroom there. I didn't know your size, so I got a few options. You should be able to find something that fits you well enough."

There was an undertone of command to his amiable tone, just as she had noticed on the phone, but it still didn't seem unpleasant, so she decided to ignore it and play nice. She nodded her head a little and walked into the bathroom, only to find that she was so large in this form she could barely turn around.

There was a lock on the door, though she doubted that it would even slow either of them. Since she couldn't really move in the little room, she decided that she might as well get on with it. The idea of them seeing her naked didn't bother her, except that she was afraid she would read desire in one of them and lose her temper. What really made her nervous about changing back to her human form was that she was so very vulnerable during the time it took to make the change. Plus, she wasn't as strong and her senses weren't so sharp in her human form, though they were still far above anything she'd had before Lupa had become a part of her.

Nathan followed her enough to pull the door shut behind her, for which she was grateful.

Changing, she'd discovered, required very little effort to begin. It was merely a matter of willing it to happen. When she was finally finished, she was lying naked on the bathroom floor, shaking and panting slightly. Her whole body was racked with pain, but that part was only a minor annoyance to her. The real discomfort, was the fact that she felt decidedly vulnerable in this form, though she knew she wasn't. More vulnerable than the wolf, perhaps, but not so much.

This form though, was more closely connected to horrible memories that she kept buried from her conscious mind most of the time. Now, feeling so vulnerable to be in this unfamiliar place with powerful and unfamiliar people, those memories were nearer to the surface.

She found the neat stacks of clothes on the counter, and quickly found that they were all too big. Still, the sweat pants had a drawstring to keep them up and the sweatshirt hung to her thighs, but she actually felt somewhat comfortable in them. She couldn't remember ever feeling truly comfortable in any clothes. The only clothing she'd ever worn were robes and lingerie – at least that she could remember. She knew that her mother must have let her wear normal clothes, but she had very few memories that far back. These baggy clothes felt comfortable on her.

She glanced in the mirror and sighed when she saw her hair, then she flinched involuntarily at the thought that she'd most likely be beaten if her master saw her that way.

She didn't have a master anymore, she reminded herself. There was a brush on the counter, but she couldn't bring herself to use it. She was beaten for touching things that weren't hers too. She stared in wonder as she watched the anger she felt in response to that memory turn her eyes from deep blue to a pale, silvery blue that she had seen looking back at her wolf from streams on a sunny day.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm and she watched her eyes shift back to deep blue. It took her two more deep breaths to make herself open the door and go back into that room.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	14. Chapter 14

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 14

Nathan could not have contained his shock if his life depended on it when he saw her step out of that bathroom. Instead of the big, dark woman he'd been expecting after spending the day with her as a wolf, he saw a tiny woman, maybe just a hair over five flat with pale blond hair shoved behind her ears in a disorderly mess. Her eyes were deep blue now, like deep water on a sunny day. As he struggled to keep himself from bearing all his private considerations for the room, he felt his wolf turn very smug and very satisfied.

Bran didn't so much as glance at him, but the woman did, her eyes almost meeting his, like she either sensed his reaction, or wanted to. Her face portrayed nothing of her thoughts, just as it hadn't when she was her wolf. She stopped just outside the bathroom doorway, and shifted her gaze back to Bran's chin, then dropped it to his chest as if she wanted to make sure that no one could think she was trying to meet his gaze even at a glance.

"Well, come in, child," Bran said pleasantly. "Have a seat."

The woman stiffened visibly at his words and paused much longer than he would have thought a submissive capable of, even with how mild Bran's command had been. Finally, she broke her frozen pose and moved quickly to sit in the chair in front of his desk, though she kept herself poised at the edge of her seat so she could be up in an instant. She smelled very wary again.

"What's your name?" Bran asked lightly.

She shifted a little and stared at her knees a moment before raising her eyes to Bran's chin. "I don't know," she answered.

Nathan was all but gaping, and he could feel Bran's surprise – which was unusual. They both knew that she was telling the truth.

"Do you have amnesia?" Bran asked gently.

Her lip curled into something that was almost a sneer before she caught it and took a slow, deep breath. The breath calmed her considerably. "No," she answered simply. Also truth.

Bran sat back a little it his chair and Nathan knew him well enough to tell that he was frustrated. He wasn't used to being confused and he wasn't used to people not giving him the full story without being asked. "How, if you don't have amnesia," Bran continued in that gentle voice, "do you not remember your name?"

"I never said that I didn't remember it," she said softly. "I said that I didn't know it. Sometimes people called me things, but…" She hesitated, then continued with a visible effort, "I would prefer not to repeat any of them. They weren't… complimentary."

"No one has ever called you by a name?" Bran asked, sounding between bewildered and sympathetic, though not doubtful of course. Bran could smell a lie better than anyone in the world, Nathan was willing to bet.

She shook her head.

Nathan was starting to get the sinking feeling that her life before Cal attacked her had not been a happy one. His wolf was getting uneasy in response to her unhappiness. As he watched her, he noticed a scar on her forehead, and another on the side of her chin. They weren't large and in no way detracted from her beauty, but he wondered what the story was behind them.

"Do you have any family or friends?" the Marrok asked in that gentle tone. "I'm sure they're worried about you after all this time…" He stopped talking when the woman's eyes suddenly shot up to meet his. They were the pale blue of her wolf and not the slightest bit hesitant.

Nathan and Bran were motionless as she stared at him. The only one that Nathan had ever seen meet the Marrok's eyes like that, for that long, was Bran's daughter-in-law, Anna, and she was Omega. Could this woman be Omega? Was that why she seemed so submissive most of the time, but not other times? She certainly wasn't being submissive now. He counted seven seconds that she stared into those eyes before dropping hers down to his shoulder.

Bran leaned back in his chair when she'd finally surrendered. "Well, well… I think Nathan may have been mistaken to name you submissive," he said thoughtfully.

She growled softly, the same noise he'd heard her make when she was frustrated in the woods. Her eyes were still wolf-blue though, so that growl was not comforting.

"Calm down," Bran said with the full weight of command suddenly behind his words.

The woman spun out of her chair in a flash and scrambled back by the door to the rest of the house, crouching and growling.

Bran was on his feet too, but Nathan hadn't registered his move for how fast it was.

The growl coming from her chest tried to raise his hackles, though he didn't have any in this form. It was so low a sound that he felt it more than heard it. There was no way a woman of her size with a voice as delicate as hers should have been physically capable of producing such a sound.

Bran didn't move, just stared at her.

Finally, she lowered her eyes slightly and panted a couple times. "Don't… Don't do that again…" she said breathlessly as she lowered herself to sit on the floor with visible effort. "Please," she added reluctantly. "I won't be controlled…"

Nathan saw Bran's shoulders loosen in response to the naked emotion in her voice. They both understood that she wasn't trying to challenge them so much as to protect herself from a perceived threat. Like she had in his truck, she'd portrayed aggression but retreated rather than advancing. He'd thought that it was because she was a very frightened submissive, but Bran evidently didn't believe that she was submissive, and he couldn't believe it either after the way she'd stared the Marrok down a full five seconds longer than Nathan would ever have to balls to.

"Okay," Bran agreed calmly. "I won't do that again as long as you can control yourself."

Nathan could still smell the sickly smell of her panic drenching the room from that moment when she'd felt Bran's command. She was terrified of being controlled.

The woman closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, they were dark. Amazingly, she looked right into Bran's eyes again, and she seemed to calm down even more. Nathan wasn't sure how looking into his eyes made her calm. It tended to have the opposite effect on him. Finally, she pulled herself up off the floor and walked slowly back to stand up the chair she'd flipped in her rush to get away from Bran.

"How did you end up in the woods where you killed Cal Layman?" Bran asked softly but sternly.

She took a deep breath and glanced at Nathan, just touching his eyes before looking away.

"Would you like Nathan to leave?" Bran offered.

She looked at him again, and his wolf was not happy about the way she hesitated. Finally, she lifted her eyes all the way to meet his, held them for two seconds, then looked back toward Bran, "No, I think I'd like him to stay," she said in a small voice.

Bran just nodded slightly and waited for her to answer his original question.

"I was dying," she answered finally.

Nathan froze. His wolf did not like to hear that.

"I was left there to die, and I would have. I was bleeding to death," her voice was picking up a little strength now, but her posture was still rigid and uneasy. "The wolf must have smelled my blood. I was very close to losing consciousness when he found me. I-I didn't want to be eaten alive. I didn't really think that I could kill him. I only expected to threaten him enough that he'd finish me before he started eating," she said so matter-of-factly.

It was an effort for Nathan not to growl.

"Your knife was silver," Bran pointed out, "or you probably wouldn't have killed him. If someone left you there to die, why did they leave you with a silver knife? Mercy?" he suggested doubtfully.

This time, she didn't try to stop her sneer and seeing it made Nathan uneasy. He wouldn't have the courage to sneer at the Marrok.

"He didn't know that I had it. I still don't know why I took it from his kitchen. I guess I was finally beyond caring," she shrugged like it was no big deal. The shrug matched her tone mostly, and it didn't smell false. "I didn't want to kill him, but I think I might have."

"What happened?" Bran asked gently.

"I guess he got sick of me," she said with the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "I had the knife because I knew it wouldn't take much to push me over the edge… But when I saw him, I knew that he didn't plan on letting me live through the night."

"Why didn't you kill him?" Nathan asked. As soon as the words were out he could have bitten off his tongue for how much he regretted them. It wasn't his place to speak.

Bran ignored him though and let her answer the question.

"Because I was afraid that if I killed him," she hesitated a little, and he almost thought he saw a hint of embarrassment. "I was afraid it would make me no better than him. It was an irrational fear, and I knew it, but I couldn't banish it. I…"

"Why do you believe that it was irrational?" Bran interrupted smoothly and unrepentantly.

The interruption didn't seem to bother her, but she did seem a little surprised by the question, "Because monsters deserve to die," she said, looking him in the eye yet again. Blessedly, Bran didn't seem to mind. She shook her head slightly, as if to clear it, and continued with her horrifying story.

"I was relieved to know that he would let it be over without forcing me to make myself a monster. Only…" She frowned a little. "When the time came to finish me, he didn't have the courage. He'd cut me all over – he liked to cut me – but when he stabbed me in the stomach, he lost his nerve. He must have thought I was as good as dead already because he dumped me out in the woods and left. I think he was probably right."

Nathan's hands were in fists at his sides and he was trying to breathe deeply and silently to calm himself before the stench of his rage infected the room. He was not successful.

The woman looked at him curiously, but she didn't seem bothered by his anger. "Why are you mad?" she asked him. Apparently she knew how to use her nose better than he'd given her credit for.

"I don't think he approves of men who cut woman and enjoy it," Bran said dryly. "Now might be a good time for Nathan to go and get some air."

"He doesn't bother me," she said simply.

"Well, he's starting to bother me," Bran sighed. He sounded frustrated.

Nathan didn't hesitate. Frustrating the Marrok was a very bad idea.

_More to come..._

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


	15. Chapter 15

_Rated M for language, sexual themes, violence, and rape and torture. This story contains no explicit sex. All rape and torture content comes in the form of memories and dialog of past trauma._

_*This story is written in Patricia Briggs' Alpha and Omega universe and is solely for entertainment purposes. I have the highest respect for Patricia Briggs and her writing and hope that this story compliments her work. I make no money from this work. Enjoy!_

_This story takes place after Hunting Ground._

CHAPTER 15

The girl just shrugged a little as he left. She'd needed him in the beginning because she trusted him, but she was beginning to trust the Marrok now. His power frightened her because she _wanted_ to do what he told her to, and that was exactly what she wouldn't allow. Still, his eyes were… kind would be the wrong word, and certainly not gentle. They were noble. He was a hard man, but one who would not take pleasure in hurting innocents. That made him a white knight in her book.

"How did you end up with this man who tried to kill you?" the Marrok asked in that gentle voice that could almost mask the magnitude of his power. She hadn't noticed it at first, but she couldn't _not_ notice it now that she'd felt the full force of it.

She shrugged, "He bought me from my last master."

She didn't smell anything change in the Marrok, but she saw his eyes harden for just a moment and she thought that maybe Nathan wasn't the only once who didn't approve of the men in her story.

"Master?" he asked, his tone portraying nothing but curiosity. "Who was your first master? When did this start?"

"I don't remember time very well," she admitted. "I've had…" she had to count in her head. She'd never paid attention before, but she knew that she'd never forgotten a master. "I've had five different masters since my mother sold me."

"Your _mother_ sold you?" he asked, seeming surprised, though she detected the faintest trace of disgust in his eyes. She didn't think the disgust was because of her.

She nodded, then sighed. "I think that I can trust you," she said reluctantly. "It makes me nervous to even say those words, but I don't think you're the kind of man who would ever take pleasure in hurting people… I hope that I'm right," she added when she caught the almost undetectable flicker of something contradictory cross his face.

He quirked an eyebrow at her like he didn't actually believe that she'd caught that, or maybe was surprised that she had. "I have no desire to hurt you or any other innocent," he confided. "I have done so before, but never without regret, and I would not do it lightly."

She didn't miss the way he'd not said that he'd _never_ done it lightly. He expected her to catch a lie, she thought, but perhaps not an evasion. Still, she didn't care what he used to be. All that mattered to her was what he was now and would be in the future. "I think I was less than ten when my mother sold me," she thought about it hard, trying to be sure. Finally, she nodded, "Eight or nine, I'm pretty sure, but it's very difficult to remember back that far. She sold me because she needed money for drugs."

Bran just quirked an eyebrow at her, but it was enough for her to know that he'd detected that lie.

"Okay," she relented. "That's what I was told, but I know it was a lie. She was a prostitute, and one of her clients tried to rape me. If I'd had anything in my hands more than a dull pencil, I would have killed him. As it was, my mother barely pulled me off him before I could." She hesitated. "Then I turned on her. I was mad at her for not trying to stop him, though she knew perfectly well what he was doing. She was afraid of me. That's why she sold me to a drug dealer for the price of a fix."

Bran sighed softly and she saw pity in his body – she tried not to look in his eyes too much because it made Lupa really nervous. It had the opposite effect on her. Those eyes were like a warm blanket on a cold night for her. She'd never even imagined someone both powerful beyond belief _and_ noble – not in real life at least.

"All of my masters kept me until they were bored with me or couldn't use me anymore, and then they sold me. Every master was worse than the one before," she shrugged.

Bran studied her for a long moment before he spoke, "How did you survive that, child?"

She wasn't exactly sure what he meant but she answered as best she could. "I learned to be submissive. I learned to read them and avoid making them angrier."

Bran nodded, "But you're _not_ submissive. Not by a long shot."

She shrugged uneasily.

"It's okay," Bran said lightly. "Among werewolves, dominants and submissives take a stronger role than they do among humans, and they tend to be rather black and white for the most part, especially among the younger ones. You, are _not_ black and white. I like that about you. You have the instincts of a dominant but the good sense and self control to tuck your tail between your legs when you should… Even if it's so difficult to do that it leaves you panting," he smiled wryly. "You learned to control your instincts when you were human, and you've transferred that knowledge to control your wolf. Many with a history like yours might have embraced their violent urges to seek revenge."

She smiled a little, "Don't think it didn't occur to me… and sound like a good idea," she sighed, "but I don't have any real desire for revenge. I survived," she realized now that this might have been what he'd been asking before, "by living in the present, forgetting the past as much as possible, and ignoring the future. I found small things to look forward to each day, usually, that was the night. After everyone was sleeping, and everything was quiet and peaceful. Those were the moments I lived for." She wasn't sure why she was telling him so much that he hadn't really asked, but she felt surprisingly comfortable with him. And maybe she did miss having occasion to talk.

"Honestly, when I first realized that I'd turned into a wolf, I could have sang with joy. The last two months – as Nathan tells me it has been – have been the happiest of my life. As a human, all I ever wanted was to be alone, but…" She trailed off and Bran finished for her.

"Now you're lonely."

She felt her brow furrow.

"Yes, it's because you're a wolf," he confided, apparently having assumed that she'd guessed as much. "Wolves are creatures meant to live in packs. Some do manage to make it on their own, yes, but mostly older wolves who have had a pack for a long time. It is most difficult in the first years after you are changed. I would welcome you into my pack if you wish, though I'll understand if you'd prefer to wait a bit before making that decision."

She nodded gratefully.

"Still," he continued. "I would like you to stay in Aspen Creek for a while – a few months at least, regardless of what you decide to do after that."

She considered that for a moment. He'd phrased it politely, but there was not chance that he intended to give her a choice. "You like me, but you don't trust me yet," she realized.

"I trust you to _want_ to do what is right," he corrected, "but learning to control your wolf is tricky. Your wolf is extraordinarily large and very dominant. That makes you even more potentially dangerous than most. You're intelligent and resourceful and from what I've seen so far, you shouldn't be in too much danger of losing yourself, but a strong human tends to breed a strong wolf. You can fight harder, but so can your wolf side. You stay here and I'll observe you for a few months. Once I'm sure that you have complete control, we'll decide what to do from there. You will, of course, be welcome to stay here, or I can send you to any other pack in the country…" he hesitated. "I'll even consider letting you go lone wolf if you choose, though that is something I've never before allowed a female to do."

He was trying to avoid making her anxious by telling her that she might _not_ be able to go lone wolf, but she heard his meaning clear enough. She also didn't miss how he'd said "we'll" decide what to do from there rather than "you'll" decide. Just as Nathan had said, all the North American wolves were his responsibility, she understood now that they were _his_. _She _was his. She took a deep breath and nodded.

He smiled and smelled pleased. "First, we need to find you a name. I can't very well have everyone calling you 'woman' or 'female' and you probably don't want to hear some of the nicknames some of the pack might conjure instead. Would you like to choose a name?"

She shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Very well. How about Miles Aurea?" he suggested.

"I don't know if I deserve 'beautiful'," she frowned.

He looked intrigued, "You know Latin?"

She shook her head, "I know a little. My first master let me stay in the room when he had his Latin lessons."

"I can teach you if you'd like," he suggested.

She couldn't help the smile that she knew was beaming at him. No one had ever taught her anything in her entire life – not intentionally. "I'd like that."

He returned her smile with one almost as bright. "Excellent. Miles?"

"Beautiful Soldier…" she tasted it.

He nodded, seeming to like it. "Only a soldier could go through what you did and fight your way out the other side. And the surname is self-explanatory. I sense that you don't see it, but, believe me, everyone else does."

He winked at her and she couldn't help but smile a little.

_Part Two will be coming soon as a separate story, so if you liked this one, look for the sequel. Miles will continue her journey to find her place in the world and eventually discover her own past while increasingly torn between Lupa's attraction to Nathan and her own ingrained fears of men and physical contact._

_I hope that you enjoyed and look forward to hearing your opinion!_

_I hope that you enjoyed and would welcome any reviews and/or suggestions._


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